


In Battle, a Queen is Born

by queenmidalah



Series: Sigrid, Queen of Dale [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-05-13 19:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5714788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenmidalah/pseuds/queenmidalah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When her brother and father do not survive defeating Smaug, Sigrid takes up the mantle as Girion's heir to lead her people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Daughter's Grief

**Author's Note:**

> I had wanted to finish this first story before I posted it, but maybe in posting the start, it will get me to finish the first part of the series and begin working on the rest of the stories in the series.

There was so much chaos after the destruction of Laketown. The dwarves had left, though Kíli and Fíli both had worried about leaving Tilda and Sigrid when they had no idea where Bard or Bain were, or if they had survived. But the dwarves knew that they needed to get to Erebor. Percy had proclaimed he had seen Bard shoot down Smaug with a black arrow, but none knew where the bargeman was. Alfrid had tried to take control, but few listened to anything the former deputy of the Master had to say. The people of Laketown had even attempted to lynch the man.

Surprisingly it had been Sigrid who had taken charge. It had taken a moment for so many to stop and listen to the young woman, but the steel in her spine showed and she commanded a presence. She had ordered everyone to begin gathering what they could salvage and tend to the wounded. They would soon need to find shelter.

In the midst of gathering what few supplies everyone could find, Percy had found Sigrid. Imploring the young woman to come with him, he led her to her greatest fear. Bard and Bain had both been found. 

Neither had survived.

Kneeling beside the bodies of her father and brother, Sigrid did not sob. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she reached out a shaky hand to brush against their cheeks. She looked them over, finding only a few scorch marks on their clothes. There was discoloration around Bain’s neck, indicating it had broken. Bard had a large gash on his forehead. Sigrid suspected that her father had taken a blow to his head that knocked him out and he had drowned before regaining consciousness.

“Can we take them with?” Sigrid whispered.

“Most of the bodies we are going to try and bury, but the ground is already freezing,” Percy explained. “We may have to burn them.”

“You will not burn any of the bodies,” Sigrid said firmly. “Laketown was lost in dragon fire. We will not dishonor the dead by burning them.”

“But--,” Percy started.

Sigrid rose gracefully and turned to him. “You will not, do you understand?” she said. 

Percy watched the young woman a moment before bowing to her. “Aye, my lady,” he said.

“Do not call me that,” Sigrid said. “I am no lady.”

“You are a descendant of Girion,” Percy said. “And with your father and brother--.”

“Do not say it,” Sigrid said, her voice catching.

“You are the heir,” Percy insisted. “Your father slayed the dragon. That alone would deem him worthy of taking his rightful role as the ruler of Dale.”

“I am just a girl,” Sigrid said. “I am in no way capable of ruling anything, let alone Dale.”

“Do not underestimate yourself,” a female voice interrupted. Sigrid turned to see Tauriel and a blonde elf standing just behind them.

“She is correct,” the blonde said. “As the dragonslayer’s daughter, they will look to you to lead. You need to be strong and lead your people.”

“Lead my people?” Sigrid asked, tears slipping onto her cheeks. “My father and brother are dead! I have to go and tell my little sister this. And you expect me to lead my people?!”

“Yes,” the blonde said.

“Legolas,” Tauriel admonished. She walked over to Sigrid and took the young woman’s hands. She had seen how strong and quietly confident Sigrid had been when Tauriel had healed Kíli. She had seen how the younger woman had remained strong and silent as Smaug had attacked Laketown and they had escaped. She had watched her brother take off to deliver the black arrow to their father, not knowing that she had seen him alive for a final time. Yet she had remained quiet and supportive of her little sister.

It took a strong woman to take over the role of mother of two siblings and woman of the house while her father worked hard to support them, yet it was his eldest daughter who handled everything else. This was the type of queen that the people of Dale would need.

“People will look to you now,” Tauriel told Sigrid. “Legolas was right about that. They need guidance and it was you who encouraged them to begin salvaging what they could. It is you they will follow.”

“I… I do not know how to lead,” Sigrid said, sounding as young as she was.

“You will learn,” Legolas said. “For now, you need to address them. Lead them to where you need to.”

“We need to find shelter,” Sigrid said. “I…” Her eyes fell upon the mountain and the ruins of Dale. “Dale. We need to head to Dale.”

Legolas nodded. “Tauriel and I will serve as escorts.”

## ඩේල් රැජින

It took almost two days for the remaining citizens of Laketown to make their way to Dale. It was almost nightfall on the second night as they entered the city’s remains. As Legolas, Tauriel, and Percy had predicted, the people easily followed Sigrid. All but Alfrid had accepted her as their Lady without question, but he was kept in check. In fact, it was he who called to her once in Dale. 

“Milady! Milady!” Sigrid looked up to where he was calling. “Up here!” Glancing at Legolas, she made her way up to the outer wall where Alfrid was starring, the blonde elf following directly behind her.

“Look, milady,” Alfrid said. “The braziers are lit.”

“The company of Thorin Oakenshield survived,” Legolas said as he stood beside Sigrid. Sigrid felt a small warmth form in her chest at the knowledge that those she had come to know a bit more, and had helped her and her sister escape, had made it.

“Survived?” Alfrid said, looking at Legolas. “You mean there’s a bunch of dwarves in there with all that gold?”

Sigrid looked at Alfrid with disdain. “I shouldn’t worry, Alfrid,” she said. “There is enough gold in those mountains for all.” Stepping around Legolas, she looked down at the people below as they flowed further into the city.

“Make camp here tonight,” she called down. “Find shelter where you can and get some fires going.”

“Take the first night watch,” Legolas said to Alfrid. He ignored the oily man’s sneer as he turned to follow Sigrid down to help the people of Laketown settle in. Tauriel had arranged for Bard’s and Bain’s bodies to be brought with them. She tucked them away in an area that would not disturb others. They would find a suitable burial spot for the pair.

## ඩේල් රැජින

Sigrid had never felt so bone weary as she did walking amongst those around her. Some were calling for more water, others were asking for more food. Tauriel walked with her, kneeling at various times to see how people were faring.

“The women, children, and wounded should come first,” Sigrid said to Percy when he looked to her for guidance. She put her hand on his arm. “Do what you can.” He nodded. 

Sigrid walked up the steps to where Alfrid was stretching. “Morning Alfrid, what news from the night watch?”

“All quiet, my lady, must report,” Alfrid said. “Nothing slips by me.”

Sigrid paused as she stepped into the courtyard. Tauriel and Legolas joined her as she stared at the golden armor of the warriors in front of her. “Except an army of elves, it would seem,” Sigrid murmured to Alfrid’s comment.

“From my father,” Legolas said. “Come.” He led Sigrid and Tauriel down the steps, his pack in hand. He had informed Tauriel that he was riding north to Gundabad to investigate. Sigrid paused momentarily on the steps as the elves, in unison, parted to allow them to walk past. She hesitated before stepping through; one by one the elves reformed their lines.

Sigrid took note of the majestic elf that came trotting in on the largest elk she had ever seen. She immediately knew that this was King Thranduil, and apparently Legolas’ father. “My Lord Thranduil,” Sigrid said. “We did not look to see you here.”

Thranduil took note of Tauriel and Legolas, his jaw tightening some. He looked around Sigrid a moment, as if searching for her father. Legolas spoke to his father in the same melodious language that Tauriel had used when healing Kíli. Shock washed over the Elvenking’s face, his ice blue eyes flicking to Sigrid. He spoke briefly to Legolas, who inclined his head before Thranduil once more focused on Sigrid.

“I heard you needed aide,” he said. He turned to the others in his company, past the four white horses with their riders to the wagons that were being pulled into the courtyard.

The people of Laketown seemed relieved and moved down towards the wagons, beginning to unload the contents that the elves had brought to them.

“You have truly saved us,” Sigrid said. “I do not know how to thank you.”

“Your gratitude is misplaced,” Thranduil said. “I did not come on your behalf. I came here to claim what is mine. There are gems in the mountain I too desire. White gems of pure starlight.” He turned his elk to trot away, his soldiers turning to march beside him.

“Wait! Please wait!” Sigrid cried, running after him. “You would go to war over a handful of gems?” She looked to Legolas and Tauriel before focusing once more on Thranduil.

“The heirlooms of my people are not lightly foresaken,” Thranduil said.

“My lord, we are allies in this,” Sigrid said. “The people of Laketown, my people, also have a claim upon the riches of that mountain.” She licked her lips. “Let me speak with the king.”

Thranduil turned his head to eye the girl. “You would try to reason with the dwarf?” he asked.

“To avoid a war and more lives lost?” Sigrid said. “Yes.”

“You can not go alone,” Legolas said. “Not unguarded.”

“I will go with her,” Tauriel said.

## ඩේල් රැජින

“What do I say?” Sigrid asked. For all of her bravado to Thranduil, she was terrified of what to do or say once she got to the mountain.

“Whatever you wish,” Tauriel said. “It must come from the heart. But be as regal and as strong as you can do so.”

“I do not know if I can do this,” she said.

“Yes you can,” Tauriel said. She took note of the dwarves gathering on the ramparts as she and Sigrid galloped around the corner. “You are strong, Sigrid, and the new Queen of Dale.”

Sigrid took a deep breath before focusing on the dwarves, particularly Thorin. She did not wish to let her eyes be drawn to where she saw Fíli standing with Kíli.

“Hail Thorin, son of Thráin. We are glad to find you alive beyond hope,” Sigrid called up to him, trying to sound as strong as her father often did.

“Why do they send a girl to the gates of the King under the Mountain?” Thorin called down. “Can your father not come to me himself to declare the war he has so readily armed himself with?”

Sigrid’s chest seized and for a moment she couldn’t speak. Tauriel moved her horse closer and reached over to squeeze the girl’s forearm. Looking up to the ramparts, Tauriel saw Fíli and Kíli both come to attention, exchanging looks. So did Òin and Bofur.

“My father is dead, my lord,” Sigrid said. Her voice was strong, but it did waver slightly. “He and my brother both perished after slaying the dragon. I am leader of my people now.”

“Then answer me, leader, why do you come to the King under the Mountain armed for war?” Thorin said.

“Why does the King Under the Mountain fence himself in?” Sigrid asked, feeling her patience fray slightly. “Like a robber in his hole?”

“Perhaps it is because I am expecting to be robbed, girl!” Thorin said.

Sigrid lifted her chin, calming herself. “My lord, we have not come to rob you. We only seek fair settlement. Will you not speak with me?” she asked.

Thorin looked towards the elves in Dale, then at Tauriel and Sigrid. He inclined his head. “Without the elf,” he said.

Sigrid looked at Tauriel who nodded. Sigrid easily slipped off her horse’s back, glancing up to the ramparts. She briefly met Fíli’s gaze before he turned to head down with his uncle. Sigrid fisted her hands in her skirt and apron, uncertainty flowing through her. She had to remain strong for her people, for Tilda, and for her father’s and brother’s memories. She jumped as a raven flew out of the mountain overhead. She stepped up to the small hole in the gate, seeing Thorin move into her view.

“I’m listening,” Thorin said.

Sigrid licked her lips. “On behalf of the people of Laketown, I ask that you honor your pledge,” she said. “A share of the treasure so that they might rebuild their lives.”

Thorin looked at her, shaking his head. “I will not treat with any man or woman while an armed host lies before my door,” he said.

“That armed host will go to war if we do not come to terms,” Sigrid said.

Thorin shook his head, looking blasé. “Your threats do not sway me,” he said.

“What of your conscience?” Sigrid asked. “Does it not tell you our cause is just?” Sigrid’s fingers curled over the hole, looking at Thorin directly. “My people offered you help. In return you brought upon them only ruin and death.”

Thorin turned to look at her, his eyes hard. “When did the people of Laketown only come to our aid after the promise of rich reward?” he asked.

“A bargain was struck!” she said. She may not have been at the gathering, but she had heard details from her father.

“A bargain?! What choice did we have to barter our birthright for blankets and food!” Thorin snapped. “To ransom our future in exchange for our freedom. You call that a fair trade?” Thorin tilted his head in disdain.

“Tell me, daughter of the dragonslayer,” Thorin continued. “Why should I honor such terms?”

Sigrid’s fingers tightened. “Because you gave us your word,” she said. “Does that mean nothing?” Thorin studied her before he slid out of the view. He studied the dwarves that stared at him.

“Be gone!” Thorin yelled. “Ere our arrows fly!”

Sigrid blanched, looking back to where Tauriel sat astride her horse. The younger girl hurried back to her horse. Mounting, she briefly glanced up to the mountain, seeing the dwarves lined up again. She once again met Fíli’s gaze, noting how torn he looked. She lowered her head and turned her horse, galloping back towards Dale with Tauriel.

“He will give us nothing,” Sigrid said as she approached Thranduil.

“Such a pity,” Thranduil said. “Still. You tried.”

“I do not understand,” Sigrid said. “Why would he risk war?”

“You are too young to understand,” Thranduil said.

“Then explain it to me, for I am to lead my people, regardless of my age,” Sigrid said.

Thranduil studied her before their attentions were brought back to the mountain as a stone head was broken off and fell to destroy the bridge leading into the mountain.

“It is fruitless to reason with them,” Thranduil said. “They understand only one thing.” He pulled out his blade. Turning his elk, he headed back towards Dale.

“We attack at dawn,” he said. “Are you with us?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The goal is to get this part of the series done in 3 chapters. We'll see if the muses cooperate with me.
> 
> Obviously Sigrid has taken the role of Bard in BOTFA, so much of the dialogue in areas is lifted from the movie with some tweaks and/or additions here and there to make it fit Sigrid's voice a bit more. Though for the most part she is trying to emulate her father and what he would do in the situation.


	2. A Queen's Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of the Five Armies is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of dialogue in this was lifted from the movie, mostly to keep in line with what happened, but Sigrid in Bard's place. Some additions and adjustments were made in order to fit her "voice". Hopefully I kept in line with how I have portrayed her so far while integrating events of the movie into what was happening. The next chapter will be the final on this story and will cover the aftermath of the battle.

When Sigrid had thought she could never feel as weary as she did that first morning here in Dale, she had been wrong. It had been some time since Sigrid had felt as incredibly bone tired as she did in that moment, but she still pushed forward for her people. Especially as so many of them were training as fighters now, working with the more seasoned members of Laketown who knew how to fight and the elves. Most of her time had been spent with Thranduil and Tauriel preparing for what would be coming at dawn.

She now wore an Elven scimitar at her waist. She had confided in Tauriel that she did not want to be a queen who was sequestered away while others fought if war was inevitable. The elleth had taught her enough to defend herself, warning the girl that much of it she would forget in the heat of battle. However, the sheer strength of survival would help her wield the blade easily enough if necessary. She had told Sigrid that the Elven blade would be lighter for her smaller frame over the heavier iron of the blades made by Men or Dwarves.

“No, no, no! Oy! You! Pointy hat,” she heard Alfrid calling. She stepped out of the nearby alcove to see him approaching a man in a long gray robe with a large gray hat and a long gray beard. Everything about him was gray.

“Yes,” Alfrid drawled when the man turned to him. “You. We don’t want no tramps, beggars, nor vagabonds. We got enough trouble here without the likes of you.” He waved his hand at the man. “Off you go. On your horse!”

“Who’s in charge here?” the man demanded in a booming voice.

“Who is asking?” Sigrid spoke up, walking over to the man. They had found worn, but royal clothes along with chainmail that fit her feminine frame. She looked more like the Queen of Dale she had become than the girl-child of Laketown. Even her hair wasn’t as mussed as it had been, once Tauriel had braided it into a more befitting style of a royal preparing for war. 

“I am Gandalf the Grey,” the man said. “I look to speak with the leader of Men and Thranduil of the Mirkwood.”

“I am the leader of Men,” Sigrid said. “I am Sigrid, daughter of Bard the Dragonslayer.” She hated the moniker given to her father. She preferred when people spoke of him as the bargeman or bowman. Calling him the Dragonslayer only served to remind her that he and Bain were both gone. That she and Tilda were orphans.

“And where is the Dragonslayer?” Gandalf questioned.

Sigrid lifted her chin. She wondered if the pain would ever ease. “He did not survive,” she said quietly. Her jaw tightened and she leveled him with a look. “What business do you have with myself and King Thranduil?”

“Mithrandir,” Thranduil said, gracefully coming down the steps towards them. “I might have suspected your actions in all of this.”

“I must speak with you and the girl--,” Gandalf said.

“My name is Sigrid,” she said firmly. “I may be a girl, but I am queen of my people now.”

Gandalf looked at her. There was a light in his eyes that could only be described as a twinkle. “I apologize, my lady,” he said. “I must speak with you and Thranduil. War is upon us.”

## ඩේල් රැජින

“You must set aside your petty grievances with the dwarves,” Gandalf said. “War is coming. The cesspits of Dol Guldur have been emptied.”

Sigrid looked over at Thranduil, panic and confusion washing over her features. She frowned a bit as Thranduil looked at her, his eyes rolling in exasperation. He snapped to attention, though with an amused expression, when Gandalf spoke again.

“You are all in mortal danger!” he said.

“What are you talking about?” Sigrid asked, cursing how her voice shook. She looked at Thranduil. “What does he mean?”

“I see you know nothing of wizards,” Thranduil said as he rose from his makeshift throne. “They are like winter thunder on a wild wind rolling in from a distance.” He poured a goblet of wine, handing it to Sigrid before pouring one for himself. “Breaking hard in alarm, but sometimes. A storm is just a storm.”

Indignant, Gandalf spoke to the Elven King. “Not this time,” he said. “Orcs are on the move. These are fighters! They have been bred for war.” Sigrid’s breath was a sharp intake. “Our enemy has summoned his full strength.”

“Why show his hand now?” Thranduil questioned, still acting indifferent to what Gandalf was telling them.

“Because we forced him!” Gandalf proclaimed. “We forced them when Thorin Oakenshield set out to reclaim his homeland.” He started out of the tent, fully intending for Sigrid and Thranduil to follow them. “The dwarves were never meant to reach Erebor. Azog the Defiler was sent to kill them. His master.” He paused to glance at the young woman and the elf. “Seeks control of the mountain.”

He walked up the steps more to look at the face of the mountain before speaking again. “Not just for the treasure within, but for where it lies. Its strategic position. This is the gates for reclaiming Angmar in the North. If that fell kingdom should rise again…” He turned to face them. “Rivendell, Lorien, the Shire, even Gondor itself shall fall.”

“These orc armies you speak of, Mithrandir,” Thranduil said. “Where are they?” Sigrid glanced at him before looking at Gandalf. When the wizard said nothing, Thranduil turned away and began to tell his men to prepare for the next day.

Gandalf turned and walked to Sigrid. “You, daughter of the dragonslayer,” he said. “Do you agree with this? Is gold so important to you that you would buy it with the blood of dwarves?”

“It will not come to that,” Sigrid said, though it sounded hollow to her own ears. “This is a fight they cannot win.” _I hope…_

“That won’t stop them,” Bilbo’s voice broke over them. “You think the dwarves will surrender, they won’t. They will fight to the death to defend their own.”

“Bilbo Baggins,” Gandalf said as he and Sigrid turned to the halfling. He pulled the smiling hobbit into the tent where Thranduil gave him an incredulous look. Sigrid followed, moving over to a seat.

“If I am not mistaken,” Thranduil said. “This is the halfling who stole the keys to my dungeon from under the nose of my guards.” He sat down, pinning Bilbo with a look.

“Yesh,” Bilbo said, looking slightly ashamed. “Sorry ‘bout that.” Sigrid had to smother a smile. Bilbo stepped forward, pulling something out of his pocket.

“I came to give you this,” he said. He unfolded the fabric to reveal the most beautiful jewel that Sigrid had ever seen, yet it felt odd and not at all sane.

Thranduil slowly rose, staring at it. “The heart of the mountain,” he breathed out. “The King’s jewel.”

“And worth a king’s ransom,” Sigrid murmured, rising and walking over to look at the jewel that was causing so much trouble. She felt repulsed by it. She turned to look at Bilbo. “How is this yours to give?”

“I took it as my fourteenth share of the treasure,” Bilbo said, as if it was as simple as that. 

“Why would you do this? You owe us no loyalty,” Sigrid said.

“While I disagree, especially since your family helped us, my lady, I am not doing this for you,” Bilbo said. “I know that dwarves can be obstinate, pigheaded, and difficult. They’re suspicious and secretive, with the worst manners you can possibly imagine. But they are also brave and kind and loyal to a fault.”

Sigrid couldn’t help but smile a little, lowering her head. Her thoughts moved to Fíli, Bofur, Kíli, and Óin, who had faced down orcs to protect her and her siblings without any weapons.

“I’ve grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can,” Bilbo continued. Sigrid looked over at him as he continued to speak. “Now Thorin values this stone above all else. In exchange, I do believe he will give you what you are owed. There will be no need for war.” He looked imploringly at Sigrid, knowing she had lost so much already.

Sigrid sighed, glancing at Thranduil. He looked skeptical, but finally nodded to what Bilbo was saying. It let her breathe a sigh of relief and moved back to where her chair was. Thranduil turned to speak to Gandalf.

Bilbo took a moment to walk over to where Sigrid sat, reaching to touch her slender fingers to gain her attention. “Sigrid,” he said gently.

The young woman looked down at the hobbit, tilting her head. “Master Baggins?” she asked.

“I wanted to give you my condolences,” he said quietly. “I am so incredibly sorry for your loss. I did not know him long, but it was obvious that Bard was a good man. He did not have to take us in, nor did the rest of your family. Your father and brother were very brave to risk all to destroy Smaug.”

Sigrid’s breath caught as tears clogged her throat. She had to bite her lip to keep the sob at bay before she swallowed a couple times. She offered Bilbo a small, watery smile. Leaning down, she hugged him.

“Thank you.”

## ඩේල් රැජින

Any sense of hope that Sigrid had felt the evening before when Bilbo had given over the Arkenstone had fled slowly as they approached the mountain the next day. The foul stone that was tucked into her inner pocket made her feel sick and she wanted to be rid of it, but as it was their bargaining tool, she had no choice but to hold it.

Riding astride her horse beside Thranduil and his elk, Tauriel just behind them as rows of golden clad warriors from Mirkwood stood at attention, only moving to part the way for herself and their king. She saw the dwarves along the ramparts, dressed in full battle armor, save their helms. Her eyes found Fíli, the dwarf looking solemn. 

Movement to his left had her looking to the king under the mountain as he pulled out a bow and shot an arrow into the frozen ground that skidded past the hooves of Thranduil’s elk.

“I’ll put the next one between your eyes,” Thorin said, drawing another arrow to aim it at Thranduil. The dwarves began to cheer. 

Glancing to her right, Sigrid saw Thranduil smirk. Watching his features, she saw him grow serious and give the barest nod of his head. She heard the elves behind her shifting and a glance behind her saw that they were drawing their own bows, arrows at the ready. Looking up to the ramparts once more, she saw all the dwarves duck, except Thorin. With a lift of Thranduil’s hand, the elves smoothly sheathed their arrows and lowered their bows.

“We came to tell you that payment of your debt has been offered,” Thranduil said. “And has been accepted.” Sigrid glanced at the Elf king before looking up to the ramparts again, worry creasing her brow.

“What payment?” Thorin demanded. “I gave you nothing. You have nothing.”

Thranduil glanced at Sigrid, arching his brow. Her throat dry, she reached into her coat and pulled out the Arkenstone, her fingers itching to throw the foul thing as far from her as possible.

“We have this,” she called up to Thorin. She saw the dwarves stiffen, her eyes glancing to Fíli. Her heart slammed into her chest. He looked betrayed.

“They have the Arkentstone,” Kíli breathed before his face contorted in anger. “Thieves! How came you by the heirloom of our house?!”

“That stone belongs to the King,” Fíli snapped.

“The King may have it,” Thranduil said.

“With our goodwill,” Sigrid said. Hesitating a moment, she tucked it back into her coat. Looking up at Thorin, she swallowed before speaking. “But first he must honor his word.”

Thorin slowly shook his head. “They are taking us for fools,” he said. “It is a ruse. The Arkenstone is in this mountain! It is a trick!”

“It’s no trick.” Sigrid watched Thorin’s face darken as Bilbo spoke.

“The stone is real,” Bilbo continued. “I gave it to them.” Thorin turned from the edge of the rampart.

“You,” he said.

“I took it as my fourteenth share,” Bilbo said.

“You would steal from me,” Thorin stated.

“Steal from you?” Bilbo asked. He shook his head. “No. I may be a burglar but I like to think I’m an honest one. I’m willing to let it stand against my claim.”

“Your claim,” Thorin said. “You have no claim over me you rat!” He threw his bow down and advanced on Bilbo.

“I was going to give it to you,” Bilbo said. “Many times I wanted to, but…”

“But what, _thief_ ,” Thorin asked harshly.

“You are changed, Thorin,” Bilbo said as the dwarf angrily glared at him. “The Dwarf I met in Bag End would never have gone back on his word! Would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin!”

“Loyalty?” Thorin sneered. “Do not speak to me of loyalty!”

“He’s right,” Fíli said from where he stood. Thranduil lifted his chin when the dwarven prince spoke up. He glanced to his left at Sigrid. Her eyes were riveted to the ramparts where Fíli stood, facing his uncle.

Thorin slowly turned to glare at his nephew. His heir. “As I said to you in Laketown, Kíli and I were raised on tales of the mountain. Tales you told us,” Fíli said. “We looked to you as our uncle, as a father, and as our king. That dwarf is someone we would follow into battle without question. A dwarf who keeps his word, no matter how difficult it may be. You are not that dwarf.”

Thorin roared and rushed at Fíli, fisting his hands in his tunic. He was aware of the gasps from the ground and the cries of horror from those around him. Fíli fought his uncle and shoved him back before pulling a fist back and hitting Thorin in the jaw.

“How dare you!” Thorin roared, being caught by Dwalin. “My own kin!”

“I dare because you are not the uncle I know!” Fíli roared back. His voice cracked as he spoke. “You are not the uncle I love. You are no better than King Thranduil and all you claimed he was for turning away from our people in their time of need after Smaug came. In fact, you are worse.”

Thorin’s eyes widened. Fíli advanced on his uncle. “You are worse, because not only are you going back on your word and turning your back on the people of Laketown in their time of need, it is a time of need that was caused by _**you**_ and by this quest!” 

“You heard what I said to the girl!” Thorin said. “We had to barter away our birthright--.”

“Yes, yes, I heard,” Fíli said. “I was there! But regardless of what we had to do, because their Master was a greedy bastard, we still did it and they gave us their aide. Now those left turn to us for what was promised. To find aide from us and you turn your back on them! When it was you who brought dragon fire down upon their heads!”

“Bard was right,” Kíli said, his voice as sad and angry as Fíli’s was. “You brought nothing upon them but ruin and death. Sigrid and Tilda, who did nothing but help us, help *me*, have lost their father and their brother because of us!”

“Enough of this!” Thranduil called up to them. “Give us your answer. Will you have peace or war?”

Thorin looked to the west, hoping to see an army of dwarves cresting the hill. When nothing came, he lowered his eyes and started to speak. Until a raven landed on top of the rampart, staring him in the eye. Thorin smirked and look down at Thranduil.

“I will have war.” All eye turned to the west as they heard the harsh pounding of footfalls and the clang of armor. Riding ahead of an army was a large dwarf on a warpig.

“Ironfoot,” Gandalf murmured.

“Get out of my kingdom,” Thorin said to Bilbo. “I will have no more dealings with wizards or Shire rats!”

Bofur grabbed Bilbo and led him to the pile of rope he had used to climb down. “Go!”

Sigrid’s horse grew fidgety as she turned to face the new threat. She was no warrior and her horse was picking up on her fear. A hand reached over and steadied the reins. She glanced at Tauriel, who was speaking lightly in Elvish to the animal, even as Thranduil and Dain exchanged words. To Sigrid’s horror, both leaders gave word to their men to take up arms.

“We will handle them,” Thranduil said as he rode past Sigrid. She put a hand up to steady her people, eyes wide as she watched the seasoned warriors of dwarves and elves take up their arms. Soon the ground shook from the battle rams racing towards them. Easing her people back more, she could only watch the horror of battle begin. Her horse grew even more fidgety, wanting to bolt. Only Tauriel’s firm hold and Elvish words kept it from bolting.

“Hold steady, Lady Sigrid,” Tauriel said. “Should this turn to battle with men, we will get you back to Dale.”

“To what purpose?” Sigrid questioned. “I would be no safer--.” Her attention was brought back to the matter at hand as a roaring had everyone pausing and looking towards the nearby hills where large creatures were emerging, their large jaws eating stone as if they were biscuits.

“Wereworms,” Gandalf said. He turned to Tauriel. “Get the queen back to Dale!”

“I will not leave my--,” Sigrid started when a horn sounded. They looked towards Ravenhill where they saw flags shifting and moving. A roar from the opposite direction of the mountain sounded, Sigrid twisting in the saddle. She watched in horror as troops that had flooded out of the wereworm holes turned and headed straight for the city.

“No,” she whispered. Looking to her men, she called out. “Fall back to Dale! Now!” She looked at Tauriel.

“We need to get you to saf--,” Tauriel started. 

“No,” Sigrid said. “I will fight with my people. I will defend my city. My sister.”

Tauriel’s horse shifted, her gaze intent on Sigrid. Finally the elleth nodded. “I will fight with you. To Dale.”

“To Dale.”

The two women turned their horses and raced back to the city. Sigrid barely remembered how she clung to the beast before she was sliding off of the animal. She pulled the scimitar at her waist, hurrying into the city, terrified at the sight of orcs flooding in and people fleeing.

“Where’s my sister?” she demanded of people passing by.

“I saw her with Hilda! In the old market!” someone called to her.

“The market,” Sigrid said, glancing at Tauriel. The two started to race in that direction when she was stopped by Percy, leading a group of men.

“Sigrid!” Percy said. “Orcs are storming under the causeway.” Sigrid felt herself pale and she licked her lips. _‘What would Da do…?’_ she wondered. Reaching out, she grabbed Percy’s arm.

“Get the men to the eastern parapet,” Sigrid said. “Hold them off for as long as you can.”

Percy nodded. “Archers! With me!” he called and led them away.

“The orcs have taken stone street,” someone cried as he raced past Sigrid. “The market’s overrun!”

Sigrid looked at Tauriel, eyes wide with fear. “The market,” she said quietly.

“We go. Now,” Tauriel said. 

Sigrid looked at the remaining men. “The rest of you men, follow me!” Rallying behind their queen, the former citizens of Laketown followed her and Tauriel towards the market. They separated from her and Tauriel to take on the approaching orc forces.

The two women raced against those fleeing, heading straight for the market still. The two rounded a corner just as they saw a large beast bearing down on Hilda and Tilda, the older woman’s arms around the young girl. Tauriel drew back her bow and took aim, the arrow finding its mark in the beast’s neck.

Sigrid looked and saw a wagon. Without a second thought, she launched herself into and sent it flying down the hill towards the beast. She was faintly aware of Tauriel calling her name, but her only thought was of protecting her sister.

“Hilda! Tilda! Get down!” Sigrid cried, her grip white-knuckled on both her scimitar and the side of the wagon. The wheels of the wagon hit a slope and it went flying into the air. Sigrid jumped at the same time, screaming with her scimitar pointed forward. She had no real plan, but she was thankful that whatever she had done worked. Her scimitar pierced into the beast’s chest, straight into his heart, the force of what she had done sending the beast toppling backwards with her body on top of his. She rolled off the foul creature to her feet, trying to catch her breath as the beast shuddered in death.

“Sigrid!” Tilda said, racing over to her sister, clinging to her.

“No time,” Sigrid said, running a hand down her sister’s back. “I want you both to gather the women and children and get to the great hall. Bar yourselves inside.”

“You must come with us, my queen,” Hilda said.

“I cannot,” Sigrid said. “My place is here.”

“If you die in battle, Tilda will have no one,” Hilda said. “You canna’ do that to your sister!”

“If I do not fight, then I am no better than the Master hiding behind everyone else and allowing others to do their duty,” Sigrid said. “Go.”

“Valar be with you,” Hilda said, reluctantly. She had to pick up Tilda as the girl began to protest and scream for her sister as she was carried away. It broke Sigrid’s heart.

“Come,” Tauriel told Sigrid. “We must fight.” She handed Sigrid the scimitar she had pulled from the ogre's body.

With a nod, Sigrid turned and began to fight. Tauriel had been right when she said that she would not remember most of what she was taught, but the pure need to survive this for her sister, and for her brother and father, drove every swing of her blade as she took out orcs and goblins in her path. It didn’t matter that she was covered in grime and black blood, she was not going to let these monsters destroy her people.

“My queen!” Someone ran over to her in the midst of a lull in battle. “We must get you to safety.”

“I will stand and fight with my people,” Sigrid said. The man looked dubious, but Sigrid had to show strength. Turning she found a rock, climbing onto it to look over them. “Listen to me!” Those around her stopped moving, to head to the next battle, to listen to what she had to say. 

“When you see me, you see a child,” she said. “You see nothing but a girl. And you are right, I am both in many ways. Yet I have taken up my father’s mantle. He gave his life to save us from Smaug as he brought that fell beast down. It matters not that the beast was awoken by the dwarves, for it would have happened eventually. If not by them, then by someone else intent on taking the mountain. Today we stand on the very edge of our existence. Foul creatures are trying to further destroy our city. They are trying to annihilate us. We cannot let that happen! I am not a warrior. I am not a diplomat. I am simply a girl who now holds a crown because of the ancestral blood in my veins of the line of Girion. What I am is one of you, and I will fight alongside you to drive this evil out of our city. And I will fight for you against anyone that attempts to destroy us. Yesterday I stood before you, a reluctant leader because of who my father was. Today I stand before you as your queen. I ask you to stand with me. To lift your swords with mine as we band together and destroy what tries to destroy us. I ask that every man who will give his last to follow me now!”

“Long live the Queen!” someone from the back cried. Soon the entire group of fighters were repeating the words over and over. Climbing down off the rock, Sigrid lifted her scimitar. The others followed suit and she turned to head back into the fray. Shouts of “to the queen” followed her in her stead.

The battle continued, for what felt like hours, until many looked overhead and saw a sight none had seen before. Above them great eagles of the northern mountains, creatures that were thought to be nothing but fables to the race of men. From their backs fell a large man who morphed into some sort of beast, they would later discover that he had transformed into a bear. A second wizard was also added to the fray. With the eagles and the skin-changer, the tide began to turn on the battle. 

Lives were lost, injuries were had, but soon the orc army was defeated. Word came down from Ravenhill that their leader, Azog the Defiler, and his son, Bolg, were both dead. The Battle of the Five Armies was over.


	3. A Woman's Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the battle takes its toll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not certain when I will start the next part of the series, but this story has come to its end. I hope all enjoyed.

In the heat of battle, it is easy to push aside the grief and fear that one feels in order to focus solely on survival. Once that fell flame cools, there is nothing left to hold one up beyond sheer will.

That is the very state that was keeping Sigrid upright since the battle had ended just three days prior. There had been negotiations to begin, wounded to see to, and dead to mourn. 

The fallen bodies of orcs, goblins, ogres, and trolls were dragged from the field between Dale and Erebor to be burned. The bodies of dwarves that had fallen were loaded for transport and a contingent were already taking them back to the Iron Hills so they could be returned to stone.

None of the Company had fallen, though it had been touch and go the first day to know if Dáin Ironfoot would be the new king under the mountain, or if Thorin Oakenshield and his heirs would survive their wounds.

With the help of elves and wizards, the three sons of Durin had woken up from their deep healing slumbers. Fíli still tired easily, having been the worst of the three, but even he was now up and moving more. They had been tasked with miniscule things to assist, but it was more than they had expected from any of them in light of their injuries.

The bodies of the race of Men were gathered and with much reluctance, Sigrid allowed those bodies to be burned. It pained her to do so, but with the support of her people, those who had washed ashore after the fall of Esgaroth were also burned. She promised to arrange for a memorial to be built in honor of those lost that day.

Bard and Bain were still laying in state in the former home of Girion. Despite the destruction of Smaug, it was stable enough to move Sigrid and Tilda into usable rooms. Promises were made by many of the dwarves that they would assist in rebuilding it for the new Queen and her young sister, as well as building a crypt along the outskirts of the city where Bard and Bain would be entombed.

Sigrid wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. As the dust had started to settle within the first few hours after the battle was over, the reality of her situation began to weigh her down. She was now, effectively, a single mother to her sister and leader of her people. Percy was already discussing with some of the elders that he could trust about discussing with Thranduil and Thorin to commission a crown for Sigrid so they could coronate her properly.

Instead of focusing on the pain Sigrid had within her own soul, she threw herself into what was needed. As she walked the streets within hours of the battle’s end, she saw how many people looked at her with a newfound respect and admiration. They looked to her as their Queen without any of the skepticism they first had. They had seen the girl-child not only transform into a woman, but also into the leader they had so long desired after years of the Master’s tyranny. 

Sigrid threw herself into the new responsibility she knew she could not turn away from. It was leading to days of working beside her people to begin cleaning up their city, working beside the healers that were helping with the wounded; healing tents set up that didn’t discriminate by race. Dwarves, Elves, and Men alike were laying in cots and being seen to, just as their respective healers worked in sync with one another. A dwarf healer never paused or hesitated when approaching an elvish or mannish patient. The same was true for the healers of the Elves and Men. 

For those of the race of Men who were not as skilled, they worked beside an Elf or Dwarf to assist them and learn from their craft. Sigrid had already asked Hilda to keep note of who amongst their people took charge in situations and who took to the healing arts quickly. She knew one of the immediate things she wanted to do was form a Healer’s Guild and these names would be the first she would approach for just such a guild.

When she was not working beside her people or the healers, she was meeting with Thranduil to begin discussions for trade and negotiations between Mirkwood and Dale. He tested her often, approving of when she would push back. She never stepped away until she was satisfied her people would be seen to under her rule.

She had yet to meet with Thorin. Despite knowing the dragon sickness was a factor in his behavior, she could not yet release the pain of knowing that if not for him, her father and brother may still be alive. She had not lied to her people when she saw that it didn’t matter that the dwarves woke the dragon, as it was inevitable to happen at _some_ point. However, it was still difficult for her to face the person who was so determined to reclaim the gold within the mountain that it lead to so much destruction. One thing that had eased her mind that he would not be overcome again was when he asked the wizards to cleanse the gold and jewels in the mountain of the dragon’s magic.

He also refused to keep the Arkenstone. 

One of the eagles, a female, was tasked with taking the foul stone away to Lothlórien, along with a note to the lady there to destroy it. After Sigrid’s reaction to the stone, it was realized by Gandalf and Radagast that the Arkenstone’s temptations were strongest to males, while repulsing females. It was solidified when Tauriel had a similar revulsion as Sigrid had, though she had attempted to destroy it herself with a dagger. It was fruitless, but the small dagger from her boot was lost when it shattered in the attempt. 

There were two things that Sigrid had not been doing since the battle ended. Eating very much or getting any sort of sleep. Hilda and Percy were starting to take notice, but every time they said something, Sigrid brushed them off. It was now getting to the point where she was snapping at them.

The final straw came when Sigrid snapped at Tilda when she showed her worry. It was this very action that brought news to the sons of Durin that the young Queen was not taking care of herself when Tilda came racing into the dwarven tent where the Company was discussing the best plan of action to start working in the mountain once Radagast and Gandalf were done cleansing it.

“Tilda?” Kíli asked as she ran over to him and wrapped her arms around him. He looked at his brother and Bofur, a frown forming as he stroked a wide hand down the girl’s hair.

“Lass, is everything all right?” Thorin asked, coming around the table that had been set up within the tent.

“Sigrid yelled at me,” she sniffled. “She never yells.”

“Why did she yell?” Bofur asked her.

“Because she’s not sleeping or eating,” Tilda said, looking at the dwarf with tears on her cheeks. “And it scares me. She’s not stopped since we left Laketown.”

“That was over four days ago,” Kíli said, alarm in his voice.

“Her grief is immeasurable,” Tauriel’s voice broke in as she stepped into the tent, towering over all of its occupants. “She threw herself into getting people to Dale safely, then threw herself into the battle to protect them. Now she throws herself into helping the wounded and learning to be the ruler Dale needs. I fear that if she does not allow herself time to rest, grieve, and take care of herself that she will not be the ruler that Dale will have. She will waste away and it will destroy too many people to count.”

“Where is she now?” Fíli asked.

“Girion’s house, thankfully, but she is discussing how to best begin repairs instead of taking time to rest,” Tauriel said.

“I shall go speak to her,” Thorin said. He stepped forward, stopping when his heir rested a hand on his forearm.

“No, I’ll go,” Fíli said. He glanced at Thorin. “It pains me to say this, but she may not take kindly to you at the moment, Uncle. Not under the circumstances.”

Thorin’s forehead creased with a pained look, but he nodded. “Aye,” he said, sounding older than ever. “I believe this is true. Something she and I must discuss eventually, but not now.”

“Are you sure you want to go, laddie?” Balin asked Fíli.

“Aye,” Fíli said. “I may just be the only one that can reach her.”

## ඩේල් රැජින

“ ** _Out!!_** ” The shouted word had Fíli pausing on the steps that led into the former estate. Sigrid was close to snapping, he could hear the near hysteria in her voice even without seeing her. A few people hurried out of the estate, some grumbling about stubborn girls. One such person earned a smack from the woman Fíli had come to know as Hilda, the older woman telling the young man to respect his queen. She paused when she saw him.

“Prince Fíli,” she said. “I do not think Her Majesty is up to seeing anyone.”

“I heard,” Fíli said. “But I will not leave until I’ve gotten her to rest. Why did no one come to us before now to tell us?”

“Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but you were healin’,” Hilda said. “And to be frank, not many of those of Dale would want you near Sigrid right now. Especially if it was your king. Not after--.”

Fíli waved his hand with a sigh. “I get the idea,” he said. “But despite your feelings about what happened, it was not our intent and some of us came to care for Sigrid after all she did for us.” He looked at the older woman. “She helped shelter me and my kin, helped save my brother. She means a great deal to me.”

Hilda studied the young dwarf a moment before an almost knowing smirk crossed her features. “I think she means more to you than you even realize,” was all she said before nodding to him and walking away.

Fíli frowned, glancing after her in confusion. He shook his head, wondering at the strangeness of human women before heading off to face one of them. He made his way into the estate, his eyes searching for who he was looking for. He jerked when he saw a book come flying out of one of the side parlor rooms.

He walked in that direction, pausing in the doorway as he saw Sigrid frantically moving things. There was no system to it, because she often would pick something she had just moved back up and move it to another location. She stiffened when she sensed his presence, spinning.

“I said—Prince Fíli?” Sigrid fidgeted with her fingers. He studied her a moment, seeing how she was trembling. He could see the exhaustion in her face and every inch of her body. She was barely keeping herself upright. It was no wonder Tilda was worried.

“Your Majesty,” Fíli said. “I came to see how you were doing.”

“Me? I’m doing fine, of course,” Sigrid deflected. “It’s you who should be resting still. You may have had help in healing, but you were seriously injured.”

“And you are lying to me,” Fíli said. “Sigrid, when was the last time you ate a proper meal or slept at all?” He partially regretted his very abrupt comment when he saw Sigrid stiffen.

“I do not care for the implication that I am lying,” she said, turning away from him, her back ramrod straight.

“You are dodging the question,” Fíli said. “Sigrid, your sister is worried.”

Sigrid spun, her eyes narrowed. “What about Tilda?” she asked him.

Crossing his arms over his broad chest, ignoring the tight pull from his still healing scars, her arched a brow at her. “She came to our tent, saying you yelled at her,” he said. “And that you never yell. Which I can’t entirely see, growing up and seeing how Tilda is so precocious, but in light of your situations--.”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?!” Sigrid demanded.

Fíli’s gaze softened as he looked at her, his voice dropping into a tone that Sigrid had come to find annoying from those who adopted it. Even him. “Losing your father and brother,” he said with sympathy.

“Grief is not new to us, Master Dwarf,” Sigrid said stiffly. “I would thank you to keep your false sympathies to yourself. Tilda and I will be just fine.”

“False sympathies?” Fíli questioned. “There is nothing false about my sympathies.”

“Of course they are false!” Sigrid snapped. “No one knows what to do or say to the orphaned daughters of the Dragonslayer, so they say what they think we want to hear and hope it makes it all better!”

“Or… Sigrid, I am not here because I see you as merely the orphaned daughter of Bard,” Fíli said. “I’m here because I care about you and--.”

“Stop!” Sigrid protested. “Stop giving me false words!”

“I’m not giving you false--.”

“Stop it!” she screeched. She ran over and began beating her fists against his shoulders. “Just stop it!”

Fíli tried to deflect her blows, though they were doing little to hurt him in anyway. He was more worried about her hurting herself against his strong form. He was finally able to wrap his wide hands around her delicate wrists. “Sigrid, stop!”

“ _ **No!**_ ”’ she wailed before collapsing. Fíli caught her, grunting as her weight fell against him. She was by no means heavy, but his still healing chest and back protested slightly as she collapsed against him.

“No,” Sigrid sobbed again, trying to pull her hands free to hit Fíli. She struggled as he lowered her arms to his waist and wrapped himself around her, hugging her to his chest.

“Shh,” Fíli whispered into her hair. “You need to let it out, Sigrid. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” His hold on her tightened when she tried to struggle more and push away. He only let his hold loosen when he felt her body slump into his and sobs tore from her throat. His eyes stung with tears when her face buried against his upper chest near his collarbone and her sobs were muffled against his body.

After a moment, Fíli carefully lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the nearby settee in the room. Despite the light layer of dust, he laid her down. Shrugging out of his fur coat, he balled it up and slipped it beneath her head. Stroking her cheek, he wiped a tear away.

“Your people need you,” Fíli said softly. “More importantly, Tilda needs you.” He stroked her skin more. “I need you. I need the woman I saw in her home that held down my brother to help an elf save his life. The woman whose family took us in. I need the woman I saw and wanted to get to know, because she was the first person I’d ever met that might understand my need to protect my brother with a fierce heart. I need the woman who I knew could be a friend.”

“I don’t know if I can do any of this,” Sigrid whispered, her voice catching. “It’s too much.”

“It is,” Fíli said. “But you took your people and led them to Dale. You attempted to reason with my dragon-sick uncle for those people in your father’s place once gone.” He smiled a bit when Sigrid’s brow furrowed at uncle. “Aye, Thorin is my uncle. You knew there had to be some family connection since I was called prince.”

“Aye,” she admitted. “I just didn’t know how…” Tears filled her eyes again and slipped from the lids. “How do I do this?”

“You lean on those who care,” Fíli whispered. “You lean on those who have come to love you, who need you. You’ve earned the respect of everyone in the company, of Tauriel, of many of your people, and you have your sister.”

“What if it’s not enough?” Sigrid said. “I’m no queen. I’m just a girl.”

“You have proven to your people that you would die for them,” Fíli said. “Tauriel told us what you did during the Battle. How you refused to be sequestered away, despite everyone’s protests. You’ve proven enough that you are worthy of being called their queen.”

“I don’t know how to be a queen,” she said.

“I don’t know how to be a prince,” Fíli teased. “But I will learn. Just as you will learn. Take in those around you that will guide you well. Look to those who would help you, but do not let them take advantage. And I do mean both Thranduil and my uncle when I say that. Allow them to teach you but not to the detriment of your people. You know what is best for them, deep down. Fight for them in trade and diplomacy as fiercely as you did in battle. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes and learn from them.”

“What if I cannot learn from your uncle?” Sigrid asked, her voice tired. “I do not know if I can ever look at him without seeing what he brought down upon us.”

“Give him a chance,” Fíli said. “But if you cannot, there is always Balin, myself, or Kíli. Even Bofur, though I do not know what roles any of the Company will have in my uncle’s court or what roles they would want.”

“What if I am not a good queen?” she asked.

“You will grow with each thing you learn,” Fíli said. “But you cannot live the rest of your life in what ifs. Your father would not want it, nor would your brother.” He caressed her cheek gently. “They would want you to live and live well, Sigrid, Queen of Dale.”

“I’m tired,” Sigrid admitted. “But I’m scared to close my eyes.”

Fíli rose and picked up a blanket. He shook it out, noting there was little to no dust. Someone must have brought it in hopes that Sigrid would finally rest. He walked over and draped it over her body. Pulling a stool over, he sat down.

“Sleep,” he said. “I will be here until you wake. If you begin to have nightmares, I will soothe them away.” He slipped his calloused hand into hers, stroking her knuckles gently.

Hilda, Tauriel, and Tilda came upon them just a few hours later. Fíli had shifted from the stool to the floor, resting his own blonde head against the arm of the settee near Sigrid’s head, both sound asleep. True to his word, when Fíli felt Sigrid in any sort of distress, his thumb brushed her skin from their intertwined hands. Even in sleep, the Prince guarded his Queen while she finally found some rest.


End file.
